Incubus
by Jaelani
Summary: It's Scott McCall's senior year of high school, and yet another supernatural creature threatens Beacon Hills, tracked by a female alpha and her returning beta, Isaac Lahey.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The scent was recognizable the minute the classroom door opened; Scott whipped his neck up so fast that his head spun with vertigo for several seconds. Blinking to shake off the feeling, he focused on the girl entering the room. She was tall, with short brown hair, sporting a leather jacket and black boots that did not match the gentle, quiet voice coming out of her mouth.

"I'm so, so sorry!" She was saying to Coach Finstock. "I got lost, went into the wrong classroom..."

"New girl," Stiles murmured from behind Scott. "Saw her with the principal this morning."

Scott barely heard him, too engrossed with the girl's movements, straining to catch her scent again.

"Scott?" Stiles asked, noticing his best friend's tense posture. "Are you okay?"

"Class," Coach announced loudly, "This is our new student, Brooklyn Westfield. She's just moved here from Oregon, so...make her feel welcome, and all that." He paused. "There's an empty seat next to McCall in the back for you, Brooklyn. McCall! Raise your hand so Miss Westfield can see you!"

Scott made no effort to move his arm, or to conceal his curious stare at Brooklyn. He inhaled deeply through his nose, trying desperately to isolate the distinct odor. He had to be sure it was coming from her, but couldn't without getting a little closer.

Stiles suddenly punched him in the shoulder, snapping him out of his trance. "Dude, wake up!" He hissed.

"Sorry, Coach." Scott waved his left hand lazily, giving the illusion of ease and disinterest.

"Uh...okay, that's McCall. Take the seat next to him." Coach motioned Brooklyn forward. "McCall, you may be a senior now but that does _not_ mean you can _daydream_ in my class!"

"Sorry," Scott said again.

"Hi," Stiles whispered to Brooklyn as she set her notebook down and slid into the desk to the left of Scott. "I'm Stiles."

"Hi," she breathed back shyly. "I'm-"

She stopped abruptly, blue eyes flashing. Her nostrils flared slightly and she turned her gaze on Scott, almost glaring at him. His expression mimicked hers, his hands curling into fists on the desktop. Coach Finstock continued outlining the semester's syllabus from his desk, unaware of the two students shooting daggers at each other in the back of his classroom.

"Uh, hey, guys?" Stiles interjected hesitantly, leaning forward over his desk. "Does someone wanna tell me what's going on right now, or...?"

Neither Scott nor Brooklyn broke their staredown, but both answered Stiles' query with the same word, at the same moment.

"_Alpha._"


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I just quickly wanted to say thank you for reading the prologue, and for the reviews I have for it already! This makes me very excited to continue this story, so here's chapter 1, and I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Chapter 1

-3 Weeks Earlier-

"Are you the alpha?"

She looked up at the young man addressing her. He'd been sitting next to her at the bar quietly for ten minutes, and she'd listened to his erratic heartbeat as he debated whether or not to speak to her.

"Yes," she responded coolly, still eyeing him with indifference. "You're an omega?"

He nodded.

"American?"

Another nod.

"My God, what are you doing so far away from home?" She asked, sitting up straighter on the bar stool and looking at him with significantly more interest. "You're young... shouldn't you still be in high school?"

He looked up from his drink and stared her dead in the eye. "Shouldn't you?"

She thought about that one for a while, never breaking eye contact. "I like you," she announced finally, turning to the bartender with a smile. "Ma facture, s'il vous plait."

The man behind the bar nodded, handing her the bill. "Je vais payer pour lui, aussi." She instructed. _I want his, too._ She paid both, then motioned for the young man to follow her out of the dark, crowded building.

"I want to talk to you about something," he told her as they walked out into the early evening air. The cool breeze made him stuff his hands into his jacket pockets.

"I know," was her reply. "Have you ever been to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore?"

"I- what?" He frowned down at her. "Look, this is really important."

"_I know,"_ she repeated emphatically. "Answer the question."

He hesitated, clearly confused. "Uh...no. I haven't."

"It's very unique," she informed him, hooking her arm through his. "It's a tiny hole-in-the-wall place, but it has charm. Most of the books are in English, which is nice for you and I, and the employees get to live above the store as long as they work inside it. It's a big hit with the tourists."

"Isn't most of Paris a big hit with the tourists?"

She laughed. "Tell me your name."

"I'm Isaac. Isaac Lahey."

"Hello, Isaac Lahey. I'm Brooklyn, but I bet you already knew that, since you tracked me down to talk to me. How long have you been in France?"

Isaac's face fell slightly, memories flashing before his eyes. "I've been here a long time," he told the alpha heavily.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Came the next question.

"You're tracking something."

She nodded, scuffing her boots against the sidewalk. "It's been a major pain in my ass, Isaac. I was supposed to be on vacation when I found it, and six months later I'm still two steps behind when I should be one step ahead."

Isaac listened intently, blue eyes focused on her face as they strolled on. It was starting to get dark, but neither of them noticed. Brooklyn steered them around a corner onto a more deserted street, resuming her story.

"A week ago, the damn thing vanished. There's no trace of it anywhere in Paris, and no scent to follow. My trail has gone cold." Brooklyn's eyes flashed fiery red in frustration for a moment and she shut her eyelids tightly, fighting to get the shift back under control. "People are dying, Isaac, and I have to stop it, but I need help."

Isaac stopped walking, halting Brooklyn, too. He took her by the shoulders. "I can help you," he told the girl.

"How?" Brooklyn challenged him, lifting her chin to meet his gaze.

The corners of Isaac Lahey's mouth twisted up in a mischievous smirk. "I know where it went."

* * *

-Present Day-

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Like, one hundred percent, completely, totally sure?"

"Yes, Stiles! One hundred percent."

"Absolutely, no doubt, beyond question-"

"Stiles!" Scott interrupted, glaring. "She's an alpha, I'm sure of it."

Stiles swung his locker shut and set off down the hallway with Scott, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "So what do we do, do we talk to her?"

Scott shook his head. "I don't know. I think we definitely have to tell the others, as soon as possible. I'm not sure after that."

"Why is she here? I mean, does she want something? Is she looking for someone?"

Scott shrugged. "I have no idea."

Stiles' brown eyes widened as a sudden revelation hit him, and he smacked Scott in the shoulder. "Dude, what if she's here to kill you?"

"Stiles, that's twice you've hit me in the same shoulder in, like, an hour. Stop it!" Scott protested. "Why would she be here to kill me?"

Stiles let out a huge, exaggerated sigh. "Jesus Christ, Scott, you literally cannot survive without me. You're an alpha, she's an alpha, you're competition for her, she has to eliminate you."

"Okay, maybe..." Scott was skeptical. "But, she moved here from a different state, right? How can I be a threat to her if I've never been anywhere near her before?"

"Maybe it's a territory thing." Stiles suggested. "I wonder if she has a pack."

The tardy bell rang at that moment, interrupting the boys' conversation. Stiles waved to Scott and turned down another hallway to his math class while Scott continued on to English. He took his seat quickly and didn't notice the boy seated in front of him until he turned around.

"Hey, Scott," the familiar voice greeted him.

Scott looked up, dumbfounded. "_Isaac?_"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me there was already an alpha here?" Brooklyn was pissed, arms folded across her chest and light growls rumbling in her throat.

Isaac put his hands up in surrender. "I didn't think it was going to cause a problem!" He admitted.

"Not going to cause a problem," she echoed. "You moron, of course it's a problem! Two alphas in one place never ends well. One of us is going to end up dead!"

Isaac stole a look around the crowded lunchroom. "It doesn't have to be like that," he reassured the fuming alpha, leaning closer to avoid being overheard. "There was an entire pack of alphas here a few years ago."

Brooklyn's expression changed to one of curiosity. "A pack of alphas? How did that end?"

Her curly-haired beta paused. "Well... most of them are dead."

She narrowed her eyes. "Wow, helpful, Isaac, thank you."

"They did make an agreement," he reconciled. "Just, you know, _after _most of them were killed."

Brooklyn looked down at her food, picking apart the sandwich she'd taken two bites out of. There was a lot to think about; first, she had to make sure the creature was really here, like Isaac told her it would be. She needed to see this Nematon, which had supposedly drawn the thing here. And then there were all the things outside the other alpha. She could smell a coyote, a fox, and a banshee all walking the halls of the school, and it made her wary that so many different creatures existed in the same place. If Scott McCall had a pack of his own, it could either work to her advantage or make things extremely difficult.

_One thing at a time,_ she told herself.

"Isaac," she announced, looking up at him, "I need to talk to Scott McCall."

* * *

**Feedback is greatly appreciated! Chapter 2 might take a few more days to write, so thanks in advance for your patience. **


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was a peaceful evening in Beacon Hills. The sun was just beginning to set, turning the sky a vibrant red, with orange and pink streaks illuminating the city below. The faint breeze barely ruffled the leaves on the trees. A cricket chirp was heard every now and then, accompanied by the sounds of happy, undisturbed people going about their evening.

The atmosphere inside Derek Hale's loft couldn't have been more tense. It was packed with more people than usual; Brooklyn Westfield and Scott McCall stood facing one another with their arms crossed, Derek close by in case they decided they didn't like each other. Isaac stood behind Brooklyn, fidgeting nervously. His allegiance was with his new alpha, but he didn't want any of his old friends to get hurt. Stiles and Liam were at Scott's side, waiting. Scott eventually broke the silence.

"Why did you call me here?" He asked Brooklyn, jaw set and eyes hard.

"We need to talk," she replied simply. "It's important."

"Okay, then talk."

She looked over his shoulder. "I was under the impression you'd be coming alone."

"They aren't a threat to you." Scott promised.

Brooklyn smiled wryly. "I know they aren't, one of them is human. They believe _I'm_ a threat, though. That's why they came with you."

"Are you a threat?"

"Not to you."

Brooklyn unfolded her arms and walked past Derek to the table by the window. Scott looked to Isaac, questioning and unsure.

"She won't hurt you," Isaac said quietly. "Any of you."

Scott nodded and relaxed a little, believing the word of an old friend over Brooklyn's. If Isaac was with her, he reasoned with himself, she couldn't be an enemy to him or his friends. He didn't trust her, but he could see that Isaac did.

"How big is your pack, Scott?" Brooklyn walked back towards him with a book she'd picked up from the table in her hand. "We're going to need all the help we can get."

"Help with what?" Scott wanted to know.

"Incubus," came the answer. "Know what it is?"

Scott shook his head. Brooklyn opened the book and flipped to a chapter with a picture of a grotesque, winged demon leaning over a sleeping woman.

"Oh, my God," Stiles blurted out. "Is that really what it looks like?"

Brooklyn smirked, handing the book to Scott. "Unfortunately, no."

"I'm sorry, I don't see what's so unfortunate about that. This is terrifying."

"If it looked like that, it'd be easier to catch and kill," she explained. "Only the stories have this sort of image in them. In real life, an incubus looks like a human male. In human form, his scent is practically undetectable, and that makes it easier for him to be out in public without fear of being caught."

"This says they rape and kill women," Scott interjected, eyes scanning down the page. "That they want to father children?"

"Incubi children." Brooklyn confirmed.

"That's sick." Liam spoke up for the first time that evening.

"Very," Isaac agreed.

"Why kill the women?" Stiles wanted to know. "Isn't that a little unnecessary?"

Derek sighed. "It may _look_ like a human, Stiles, but it is a demon. It lacks morality, what makes you think it needs a reason to kill?"

No one responded. Scott closed the book and moved across the room to put it back on the table. Brooklyn followed, motioning to Derek that it was okay to stay back. Scott turned to the other alpha.

"There's an incubus in Beacon Hills?"

Brooklyn glanced at Isaac for a moment. "We think so."

Scott waited for further explanation.

"I followed it around Paris for six months," she looked up at him. "He knew I was there, because in all that time he only killed twice. Incubi are volatile creatures with a single-track mind; all they want is to reproduce since there aren't many of them left. This one was biding his time, waiting for me to lose suspicion and leave him to his own devices.

"A month ago, he vanished. I'd lost hope of picking up his trail when Isaac found me. He explained the nematon and the dark druid and told me he had reason to believe the incubus sensed the nematon's power and was drawn to it."

Scott shook his head. "That can't be possible. The nematon's not as powerful as it used to be. It definitely doesn't have the strength to be felt from that far away."

"You don't know that for sure," Brooklyn argued. "If the incubus is here, Scott, we need to be ready. A lot of innocent women are about to die terrible deaths, and unlike human children, it only takes an incubi child a few hours to be up and causing trouble of its own. The more dead bodies that pile up, the more creatures we have to deal with."

* * *

-Paris, 3 Weeks Earlier-

Brooklyn was speechless. She stared up at the young man she'd met in the bar earlier that night, seeing a newfound hope in him. She could find the incubus after all, put an end to his bloodshed before the death toll got too high. She was dizzy with relief, and gripped Isaac's hands, still on her shoulders.

"Tell me everything," she demanded. "Where is it going? How do you know?"

"It's on its way to Beacon Hills, California."

"California? _Why?_"

"It's... a _very_ long story."

Brooklyn ran her fingers through her curly hair and took a step back, reeling. "Looks like we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

"How do you know the incubus is going to Beacon Hills?"

The two were facing each other, sitting cross-legged on the bed in Brooklyn's hotel room, all the lights on even though it was after midnight.

"I used to live there," Isaac began, "and, a few years ago, there was a darach sacrificing innocent people."

"Darach..." Brooklyn mused. "I'm not familiar with that one."

"It's a dark druid," Isaac clarified. "An emissary for a wolf pack that turned evil."

"Okay, emissaries I know," Brooklyn waved her hand. "Go on."

"The darach wanted revenge on the alpha she used to work with because the alpha was killing her whole pack."

"She killed her own?" Brooklyn was disgusted. "What the f-"

"Don't worry," Isaac interrupted with a smile. "The darach got her revenge. Anyway, she took my friends' parents hostage; she was going to sacrifice them, and we were desperate to save them."

Isaac recounted the events from almost two years ago: learning of the nematon's existence, going to Deaton for help, holding Allison under the icy water...

Brooklyn was exhausted by the time he was done. She had a hard time following him at some points, and if she was being honest with herself, going all the way to California on mere guesswork was insane. She didn't doubt the power of this nematon for a second, but how likely was it that Isaac's theory was the solution to the incubus' sudden disappearance? Of all the places he could have gone...

Brooklyn got up from the bed, stretching her stiff limbs and yawning. She checked the clock and groaned when she saw 3:30AM glowing back at her. It was way too late for her brain to be functioning properly.

"What are you thinking?" Isaac asked gently, watching the girl pace the length of the small room.

"I think this is insane," she said slowly. "But it's all I have to go on right now."

"So..." he prompted as she continued to pace.

"What's in it for you?" She questioned abruptly.

Isaac shrugged. "My friends are in Beacon Hills. I don't want any more of them hurt or killed."

"You could be wrong about this," Brooklyn pointed out. "And then I'm truly fucked."

He raised an eyebrow at her choice of words.

"Sorry. It's late," she muttered.

The room fell silent again, Brooklyn pacing, Isaac watching and waiting.

"Isaac Lahey," the alpha finally announced. "Pack your suitcase."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated! I finished this chapter faster than I originally thought, so count on a tentative two days or so for Chapter 3 to be ready.**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

-Paris, 3 Weeks Earlier-

Someone was knocking on the door. Brooklyn tensed, dropping the clothes she was in the process of packing. It couldn't be Isaac; she'd just sent him to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore to pick up her special order copy of a book that was most reliable when it came to supernatural creatures. The knock came again.

"Please, can you help me?" The voice of a small boy asked. "I can't find my daddy."

"I was wondering when you'd show up," Brooklyn called out to the voice after a moment. "Your mommy was killed, what, two months ago?"

The child laughed and knocked yet again. "Come out and play, wolf!"

Brooklyn felt fury well up inside her and let the shift take over, teeth snapping and eyes wild.

"Come get me, little incubus!" She unleashed an ear-splitting growl as the door to the hotel room crashed open, nearly ripped off its hinges.

The demon would have looked like an innocent ten year old boy had it not been for the elongated claws he also sported. The incubi child flew at the alpha werewolf, slashing at her face and neck. She managed to snatch one flailing arm out of the air and used it as leverage to twist him around backwards and force him to his knees.

"Too easy," she snarled triumphantly, and slashed her claws once across his neck. Where there should have been blood, black smoke billowed out, and the child dissipated into nothing.

"Hey," another voice said from the open doorway. "You just killed my brother."

_Shit, _was Brooklyn's only thought before the second incubi child let out a grating shriek and came for her throat.

* * *

Isaac entered the room just in time to see Brooklyn rip the second demon to pieces and then stumble to the floor, blood pouring from several claw wounds. He dropped the bag containing the book Brooklyn insisted she needed and ran to her side, putting his arms around her and pulling her up against him.

"Isaac, I'm fine," she protested.

"What happened?" He demanded, checking her wounds to make sure they were healing.

"I was ambushed," she said, struggling to catch a breath. "The incubus killed two women here in Paris, so there's been two little devil children running around the city as well. I'm surprised I didn't run into them before now."

"Why aren't you healing?" Isaac panicked, turning her head to look at the gash on her neck.

"I'm fine," Brooklyn repeated. "Their claws secrete poison and werewolves aren't fully immune to it. It'll kill a human, but it just keeps us from healing as quickly and makes us sick for a little while."

"None of that matters if you bleed out on me." Isaac scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom.

"_Isaac,_" she tried to complain.

"Shut up," he scolded her.

He set her down on the counter and pulled the clean white towels off the towel rack. He pressed one to her bloody arm and told her to keep pressure on it while he turned to her neck.

"What?" Brooklyn narrowed her eyes, noticing him hesitate.

He fidgeted. "Um... your shirt's in the way... I can't see the whole wound."

She snorted weakly. "Are you asking me to take my shirt off?"

"Well... yeah."

She set the towel she was holding down next to her and held her arms above her head in an invitation to the bright-eyed boy. "Don't spring a hard-on and you'll live," she warned jokingly as Isaac slid her t-shirt over her head, rolling his eyes.

Brooklyn closed her eyelids and leaned back against the wall, letting Isaac clean her up. The poison running through her veins made her dizzy and a little nauseous. She wanted to sleep it off, but their flight out of Paris left in three hours.

"Alright, you're all fixed," Isaac moved to pick the girl up again. "Let's get you to bed."

She pushed his arms away, opening her eyes. "No! We have to catch that flight."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you kidding? You look like you just ran a marathon to hell and back, no way. Bed, now." His tone left no room for argument.

It was then that they both felt it.

"What the-" Isaac froze. "Do you feel that?"

The alpha pushed herself up. "Show me your eyes," she demanded softly.

Isaac looked up at her, and there they were; golden yellow and glowing with newfound power. Brooklyn stared back at him, her usually blue eyes flashing red in response to his.

"What's happening?" Isaac was breathless.

"I think," Brooklyn answered, "you just became a beta."

* * *

Brooklyn was up and moving again in about three hours, and she was able to heal not long after that, but she could still feel traces of the poison in her system for a few days. Isaac rearranged their flight out to California, pushing it back four days to give his alpha time to recover. Brooklyn expressed her frustration in falling even further behind the incubus, and was equally frustrated that his two children had taken so much out of her. "I'm an alpha," she kept saying to Isaac. "I'm supposed to be stronger than that." Secretly, part of her was touched that he had done so much to make sure she was alright.

Now, they were in line to board their flight from Paris to Charlotte, North Carolina, and then to LAX in California. It was very early in the morning and didn't look like it was going to be a full flight.

"I have a question," Isaac murmured to Brooklyn after they had settled into their seats. "Actually, two questions."

"Fire away."

"Where are your parents?" The boy asked curiously.

She furrowed her eyebrows at him. "You want my tragic back story?"

"It's tragic?"

Brooklyn shrugged. "Maybe a little. All I know about my dad is that he's very wealthy and must be in the public eye a lot; I'm his illegitimate child and he gave my mom and I a lot of money to keep quiet about it when she found out she was pregnant."

"Your mom won't even tell you who he is?"

"No, she's dead," Brooklyn said matter-of-factly. "She died a few hours after I was born, but I heard she came close to killing herself and me after my dad paid her to stay quiet, so I'm actually pretty glad I didn't have to deal with that growing up."

"I'm sorry I asked." Isaac apologized.

"No, don't be," Brooklyn assured him. "I was put into foster care and ended up staying with the same family in Oregon almost my whole life, so I got lucky there. I turned eighteen a few months into my senior year of high school, which legally gave me access to my father's money. I was feeling restless and had recently been turned by the bite, so I left and I've been traveling for almost a year now."

"How do your foster parents feel about that?"

"They understand. I send them postcards every now and then. I love them, but I needed to get out for a while."

"Dangerous for a new werewolf to be out on her own like that," Isaac remarked.

Brooklyn smiled. "Nah. I was an omega for a little while, but I found a pack in South America pretty quickly."

"How'd you become the alpha?"

"Me and another girl in the pack didn't like the bloodthirsty tendencies of the alpha that had just taken over when I arrived. There were only four of us total; the other girl took care of the beta that sided with the alpha, and I killed the alpha."

"Did you two stick together?"

Brooklyn nodded, an odd, sad look crossing her face. "She came to Paris with me. What's your other question?"

"What?"

"You said you had two questions. What's the other one?"

"Oh," Isaac paused, confused by her sudden abruptness. "How did you come across the incubus? Why are you so hell-bent on finding it?"

Brooklyn looked up at Isaac, tears sparkling in her eyes. "The incubus killed her."

Isaac was shocked. "Your beta?"

"My friend," she corrected. "The closest friend I ever had was raped to death by a demon. I will find him, and I will kill him."

Isaac put his hand over hers for just a moment. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What was her name?"

"Cora. Cora Hale."

* * *

**I'm sorry if you were a big fan of Cora and hate me for killing her! She was one of my favorites, too. I promise her death is super important to the storyline and character development. Your constructive criticism is welcome! **

**My older sister is getting ready to move out for college this week, so I'll do my best to have Chapter 4 up before we leave for her move-in day.**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

-Present Day-

"I've been here for a week. Nothing's happened. _Nothing._"

Brooklyn paced angrily across the loft, clenching her fists. She was supposed to be at school with Isaac, but she could barely contain herself at Derek's; there was no way she'd be able to sit still for hour-long periods in a classroom. Derek was leaning against the wall, watching her.

She was tall and thin, but he could tell there was muscle packed under her skin. She moved quietly and gracefully across the floor, boots making no sound. Her facial features were deceptive; he knew she was close to nineteen but he could have easily mistaken her to be twenty-four. Her nose was small and rounded, dotted with freckles. Dark eyelashes ringed light blue eyes, and thick, light brown hair fell just above her shoulders. He could tell she'd cropped it off recently because she kept running her fingers through it as though she expected it to be longer than it was.

She was beautiful and unattainable. She hid all her emotion behind a wall thicker than steel. Derek had no doubt that she was able to feel love and compassion better than anyone he'd ever met, and something told him she was terrified of it. She'd been unable to explain to him what happened to Cora, instead relying on Isaac while she stood tense and unmoving at his side, face blank. He understood why; he himself did the exact same thing. It was simply easier sometimes to shut your feelings off.

Right now, he could _feel _the rage rolling off of her.

"What was I thinking? Of the thousands of reasons this son of a bitch could have for bailing Paris, I hear one possibility and chase it down like it's the Holy Grail or something." Brooklyn stopped pacing to look out the window, but she wasn't really seeing anything.

"You think Isaac was wrong?" Derek asked.

"Isaac needed a reason to come back here," she replied harshly. "It was obvious he was lost, but he wouldn't have returned home unless he thought he had to."

Derek didn't say anything, just moved to stand beside the fuming girl, looking down at the empty street below. After a moment, she sighed, softening.

"It's not his fault," she admitted quietly. "His intentions are nothing but honest. I was just desperate for a solution, hoping I could still _do _something, for Cora."

"Were you close?" Derek's voice was tight.

"I like to think so," she told him. "She told me she had a brother and an uncle still alive, but made it clear her past and her family were things she wanted to keep private."

He nodded once. "Sounds like Cora."

"I didn't sleep for a week after she died."

Derek looked at Brooklyn in surprise. She continued staring out the grimy window, feeling his eyes on her.

"I was beyond reasoning with for a long time. I didn't sleep, could hardly eat. I lived to hunt the incubus down for what he did. Cora was - I can't -" Brooklyn stopped, not able to say it.

"I know." Derek said quietly.

"You're so much like her," she looked at him sideways.

A phone buzzed from the other side of the loft, effectively ending the conversation. Derek crossed the room, shaking himself a little. He glanced at the screen and saw Scott's name glowing back at him.

"Scott?"

There was a pause as Scott spoke. Then-

"A body?" Derek met Brooklyn's eyes. "Where? ...No, stay, Brooklyn and I will check it out. Did Stiles tell his dad what's going on? ...I'll fill you in as soon as we know."

Derek hung up and tossed Brooklyn's leather jacket to her.

"The police found a body?" She asked as she slid her arms into the sleeves.

"A woman," he confirmed. "Behind a bar downtown. They can't determine an obvious cause of death."

Brooklyn raised an eyebrow. "They're not going to like it when they do."

Derek pulled open the loft door. "After you."

* * *

Sheriff Stilinski had asked everyone to clear out from the scene to give Derek and Brooklyn a few minutes. They had parked down the road and snuck around through the alley to avoid the police. The sheriff turned to greet them when he spotted Derek.

"Make it quick," he warned them. "They're ready to take the body out of here."

Brooklyn didn't bother to introduce herself, opting instead to walk around the older man and examine the body. The woman was in her mid-thirties, sprawled in the alley like she'd simply fallen over. There was no blood and no sign of a struggle.

"Who is she?" The sheriff asked Derek, voice low.

"She's... uh, like Scott. She's the one following the creature Stiles told you about."

"Fantastic."

Brooklyn turned towards them, suppressing a smile. "I see where Stiles gets some of his sarcasm." She stuck her hand out for him to shake. "Brooklyn."

Sheriff Stilinski gave a half-hearted snort and took her hand. "Nice to meet you. What happened here?"

Brooklyn heaved a sigh. "She didn't struggle, which is new. I have feeling if you run a tox screen, there's going to be some kind of drug in her system that made her not fully aware of what was happening to her. And she didn't die here, her body's been moved."

"So, was it definitely done by your creature?" The sheriff asked.

"His scent isn't anywhere on her body, so I don't know. I'm going to have to trace her scent backwards to see where she was before she got here."

He looked overwhelmed. "Okay, well, I have to let my people do their job back here, so you two need to beat it. She started her night at this bar, if that helps you. The bartender recognized her."

Derek thanked him. "We'll be in touch."

Brooklyn led the way out of the alley, following her nose. Derek fell in step next to her, hands in his coat pockets. There was a question burning on the tip of his tongue, but he held back from asking, almost not wanting to know the answer. It didn't take Brooklyn long to pick up on it.

"You're heartbeat's going a little fast, Derek. What's going on?"

He was reluctant. "Was Cora..?" He trailed off.

"You're asking me if she went down without a fight, like the woman back there."

Derek hunched over in his coat, fending off the chilly breeze that had sprung up. He didn't say anything, but she was right.

"She fought, Derek." She confessed finally. "It was very clear that Cora didn't go quietly."

Silence fell between them. Derek didn't know what was worse; dying without knowing you were dying the way the woman in the alley had, or going down in a fight that even a werewolf couldn't win. Brooklyn voiced his thoughts aloud.

"It makes me wonder if the incubus can be killed at all," she whispered, sounding terribly sad. "If Cora couldn't get away, how am I supposed to do any better?"

* * *

The scent led back to a small house, presumably the dead woman's, judging by the décor and the pictures on the walls. Brooklyn hadn't expected the incubus to take her back to wherever he was holed up; he definitely wasn't stupid. She stiffened as they crept through the hallway, picking up another smell. She threw her arm in front of Derek, halting him.

"There's something else here."

Derek looked around, eyes lighting on the closed bedroom door straight ahead. "There?"

They crept forward cautiously, Brooklyn's protective instincts as an alpha emerging as she subconsciously pushed Derek behind her. The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement. Brooklyn reached for the doorknob.

The door flew open with a bang before she got there. Derek grabbed the girl by the waist and yanked her out of the way as a tiny figure came barreling out of the bedroom and whizzed past them out the front door.

"Was that..." Derek began.

"Yeah," Brooklyn answered breathlessly.

Neither of them moved for several seconds. Brooklyn was pressed up against Derek, his hands still clutching her hips. She was all too aware of his heart thumping against her back, startled by the small creature.

"We need to warn the others," she told him, stepping out of his grasp unsteadily. "The incubus is in Beacon Hills. And now his child is on the loose, too."

* * *

**Thank you for your patience waiting for this chapter! I had a really hard time getting this one going. I enjoyed writing a little Brooklyn/Derek chemistry, but for the life of me can't decide if I like it better than Brooklyn/Isaac. Do me a massive favor and leave me a review telling me what you'd love and WHY.**

**Chapter 5 won't be posted at least for a week, we're leaving to take my sister to college and won't be home for five days. Sorry in advance!**

**Side note: I am taking the incubi lore and giving it my own twist, in case you're familiar with it and are confused as to why you've never heard of a lot of the stuff I put into the story. **


	6. Chapter 5

**I am so sorry this chapter took so long! My sister is all moved into college now, we got home a few days ago but I had to unpack and then actually write the chapter because I didn't have my notebook with me. Thank you for your patience and understanding and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5

Derek and Brooklyn reached the school just as the final bell rang. Students poured out of every door, heading for cars and buses and sports practices. It was chaos.

Derek pulled on Brooklyn's sleeve. "Locker room," he suggested, leading the way against the flow of students into the school.

The halls were gradually emptier the further into the school they got. Footsteps echoing off the walls, the two ran down a flight of stairs and were abruptly shunted to the side as the lacrosse team passed, hooting and hollering on their way up to the field. Derek scanned the crowd of testosterone-fueled boys, unable to find Scott or Isaac.

"Where are they?" He asked.

Brooklyn pulled out her phone, calling Isaac. "Isaac! Where are you? We found the incubus. Well, his child, actually, but he's here-"

She stopped speaking as Isaac cut her off, talking quickly and excitedly, his voice spilling through the staticky connection in a meaningless babble to Derek's ears.

Brooklyn hung up a moment later. "They're in the boiler room. They found the kid."

They took off again, through the now-deserted hallways, and snuck down to the boiler room door. It was already open. Brooklyn ducked through without hesitation, and was immediately hit with such and array of smells it sent her reeling back. Derek laughed at the expression on her face, knowing exactly why she was shocked.

"You get used to it," he chortled.

"There's just so many _things_," she muttered, now following Derek to where a big group of people were gathered, some she'd met before, some she hadn't yet.

"Isaac," she breathed in relief when she spotted the curly-haired boy. "Are you alright? Is everyone okay?"

"Besides a demon child nearly killing us, yeah, we're fine." An angry voice retorted from behind her.

"Malia," Stiles reprimanded. "She's here to help us."

Brooklyn turned to face the coyote. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and the furious look on her face made her more beautiful somehow, in a very dangerous way.

"I don't think we've met," she said, looking Malia straight in the eye. "I'm Brooklyn."

"I don't trust you," was all Malia responded with. Stiles sighed, not surprised by her reaction at all.

Brooklyn was unfazed. "You don't have to."

Isaac interrupted. "Look, I'm really not in the mood to pull you two off each other, so if we could focus on the killer that's running wild, that would be great."

"Malia and Stiles found it." Scott informed Brooklyn and Derek.

"Actually, it found us," Stiles corrected.

"In the boiler room?" Brooklyn raised an eyebrow at him and he flushed bright red. The pieces clicked. "Oh. Jesus. Gross. Um, maybe find a better place for that."

"You got it." Stiles said to no one in particular.

"You didn't find the incubus, did you?" Liam asked Derek.

"No," he answered. "He vanished, but now we definitely know he's here."

"It's not much," Brooklyn pitched in, "but it's a step in the right direction."

"Are we just supposed to wait around until another body pops up?" Liam protested. "There has to be another way!"

"You don't think I've tried?" The alpha hissed. "If there was something else I could do, I'd have done it already!"

"Stop it!" Scott ordered fiercely. "I know this is weird for everyone, two alphas in the same place after what happened last time, but we can't do this. The enemy isn't any of us, it's the incubus. We have to work together on this. Understood?"

No one disagreed.

"That was kind of cheesy," Brooklyn informed Scott after a long moment of silence, smiling a little. "It needed to be said, but it sounded kind of ridiculous... like something off of MTV."

Her statement seemed to crack the icy tension permeating the room; everyone visibly relaxed.

"We'll figure this out," Scott assured them all. "I'll call Deaton and have him find anything that could help. For now, I guess, we just go home. Do our homework. Keep an eye out. There's nothing else we can do right now."

He turned to Kira, who'd stood quietly listening during the whole exchange, took her hand, and led the way out of the basement, leaving everyone else to follow.

* * *

"Homework," Isaac announced, dropping an open math book on Brooklyn's lap. "You missed some stuff today, skipper. Keep this up and you'll be repeating senior year a third time."

Brooklyn groaned. "Okay, _dad,_ geez."

She pulled the book towards her and grabbed her notebook, going through the first few problems with ease. Isaac plopped down on the couch next to her and watched her pencil fly down the page, churning out problem after problem.

"What are you staring at?" She asked playfully after a minute, still working. "If you're going to make _me _do homework, you have to actually do it, too."

"Sorry it's just... that's college level algebra. And you're barely using a calculator to do it."

"I like math," she defended herself. "It's simple. You're either right or you're wrong, there's no middle ground."

"Alright, smarty pants," he teased, then asked seriously, "What else are you good at?"

Brooklyn thought about it. "Well, French, I guess. I tested out of the class because being in France made me near-fluent even though I'm still a little slow. It's the same for you, though, right? You were there a while, too."

"Not really. I didn't make an effort to actually learn it over there. I got put in the class."

"Sucker." She mocked him. He knocked her shoulder with his.

They sat in silence then, Brooklyn's pencil scratching out numbers, Isaac's eyes scanning an assigned novel for English. The loft was empty except for the two of them; Derek had stepped out for the night. There was no noise from outside, and Brooklyn suddenly felt uncomfortable without conversation.

"I like history," she volunteered, still doing math as she spoke. "World War Two, mostly. I've read probably a hundred books on it."

"Why do you like it so much?"

"I don't know," she mused. "My family took a trip to Normandy when I was in eighth grade, and I just suddenly wanted to know as much about it as I could."

"I like watching people," Isaac confessed.

Brooklyn laughed. "Okay, creepy."

"No," he protested. "No, not like that. I mean, how people interact with each other, their personality."

"How'd you get into that?" She asked, curious.

"Well, my dad was a real shitty guy so I started studying other people, to see how they normally act, if they pretend in front of people. Locking me in a freezer for days at a time was something my dad did a lot, but he acted like nothing was different, so I wanted to see how often other people faked it, too."

"He locked you in a freezer?" Brooklyn was mortified.

"Don't worry," Isaac said heavily. "He's dead now."

"Oh."

"I'm kind of bad at everything else when it comes to school." He changed the subject back quickly, now sounding light and carefree.

Brooklyn went right along with it unquestioningly. "Don't feel too bad, I'm absolute crap in English."

"What, don't know how to read?" Isaac picked up the teasing again.

She pretended to be offended for a second, then turned serious. "I'm bad with words," she admitted, "on papers and in life, too, I guess."

"What does that mean?"

She sighed, homework now forgotten. "I'm bad at saying what I feel or voicing my opinions. I just don't have the right words to describe anything. I don't know how to do it."

"Well," Isaac began, voice low. "It doesn't always have to be said with words. There are other ways."

One corner of her mouth quirked up. "What, like art? Sorry, I can barely draw a stick figure."

He laughed a little at that. "No, that's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

"Actions," he explained. "You can show it by the things you do."

"I don't think I'm very good at that either." She said. "How do you do it?"

"Like this."

Isaac leaned forward, cupped Brooklyn's face gently in his hands, and kissed her.

* * *

**OOOOKAY so, thank you to xLadyInBluex and the guest who responded to my request in the last chapter and left me feedback about Brooklyn/Isaac or Brooklyn/Derek. I appreciate it!**

**Also, I'm trying to stay away from definitively saying whether Derek is a werewolf or a human. I want to base it off of what's happening in the show right now, but there's three episodes left in season 4 so I have to wait and see what they do with him. **

**As always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Brooklyn froze, Isaac's hands warm and gentle on her face. She didn't know what to do. She was way too tense and Isaac was _kissing _her and one second seemed to stretch into a million. Or was it really that long? His lips were soft, and she realized she had no idea if she was even kissing him back. But then it was too late; his hands were gone, his lips were gone, the warmth was gone, and he was staring at her now with a really weird look on his face.

"Was that a bad idea?" Isaac asked her. He sounded slightly disappointed, which made her heart sink.

"Um, I - I just -" Brooklyn stuttered, struggling to pull herself together. Her eyes were wide and she could feel heat in her cheeks. "You surprised me. I didn't think you were going to do that."

Isaac tried to smile and make light of the situation. "I'll try to warn you next time."

"No," Brooklyn protested. "God, I'm sorry. I feel terrible now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Neither of them knew what to say then. The silence only grew bigger and more uncomfortable with each passing second. Isaac mumbled something about sleep and abruptly got up, leaving Brooklyn alone with her math book and her churning stomach.

"Damn it," she cursed herself.

Too flustered to concentrate on homework now, she began closing all her books with angry _thud_s and stuffed them haphazardly into her backpack. What was she supposed to do now? She needed Isaac's help with the incubus, but what had just happened between them was going to create an awkward tension and she couldn't afford to deal with that right now. It wasn't entirely his fault, because he had no way of knowing she was going to react the way she had. It was obvious that she owed him an explanation.

Still mumbling and cursing to herself, Brooklyn flung her backpack over to the door of the loft where she could pick it up on her way out the next morning and headed to bed.

Neither of the two teenagers slept well that night. They both heard Derek slip in late, trying to stay quiet but tripping over Brooklyn's backpack and letting out a loud "Shit!" as he kicked it to one side. They both pretended to be asleep as Derek made his way into his own bed, extra alert now not to trip over anything else in the room.

"Freaking teenagers," was the last thing he mumbled before drifting to sleep.

In the morning, Brooklyn and Isaac were equally bleary-eyed and half asleep as they got ready. When Isaac announced he'd find another way to school Derek knew something was up; he usually drove both of them. He stayed quiet, though, until he was alone with Brooklyn in the car.

"What's going on between you two?" He asked her nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Nothing," Brooklyn replied coolly, doing her best to keep her voice steady. "We're fine."

"Liar," Derek hummed, amused at her sudden discomfort.

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing, hoping he'd just let it go. No such luck, of course.

"Isaac kissed you, didn't he?"

"Oh, my God." Brooklyn buried her face in her hands.

Derek let out an uncharacteristic, gleeful shout of laughter. "What went wrong?"

"Shut up and drive, Derek."

"Do you not like Isaac?" He persisted.

"What are you, a teenage girl?" She complained. "It's not a big deal."

"Then answer the question."

Brooklyn groaned loudly. "Of course I do! What's not to like about Isaac?"

Derek pulled up in front of the high school. "Then why are you avoiding each other like you just had drunk sex and really regret it?"

Her response was to flip him the bird and step out of the car.

"Nice. Real mature!" He called after her, knowing she could still hear him.

Brooklyn heard him speed off a moment later and sighed, running a hand through her hair. Today was not off to a good start. Pushing Isaac and the embarrassing car ride to the back of her mind, she adjusted her backpack strap and filed in through the front doors with the rest of the student body.

_Focus,_ she instructed herself sternly. _Today is all about school. Keep up a good appearance, act like there isn't a crazy demon on the loose. Be normal for one day._

That idea went right out the window when the bell rang to release the students for lunch. Stiles found Brooklyn at her locker, switching out books for her classes in the afternoon. He didn't bother to say hello.

"The police found another body."

Her locker slammed shut, startling Stiles. "Where? Take me to it, now."

He hesitated. "I can't."

"Why?" She demanded, eyes narrowing. "You have a car, don't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then what's the problem?"

"My dad doesn't want us at this one," Stiles explained. "He told me to bring you to the station as soon as we get out of school."

"No, we have to be at the scene, now!" Brooklyn exclaimed much too loudly. Lowering her voice, she said, "The trail's no good if I can't get there right now. The longer it sits, the harder it will be to track the incubus, especially with the police crawling all over everything."

"That's why we can't go," the dark-haired boy argued. "My dad can't keep clearing everyone out with no explanation to let a werewolf sniff around for some nasty demon scent. They'll get suspicious and want to know what's going on."

"We're never going to catch the thing this way," she pointed out.

"We'll work it out," Stiles promised. "Scott's going to talk with Deaton while you and I are at the station. They're going to try and find a better way to track it down. Just go to class, alright? I'll meet you in the parking lot by the jeep later."

Brooklyn nodded unhappily and watched him walk off toward the cafeteria and the smell of packaged gravy.

* * *

"Hi again," the sheriff nodded to Brooklyn as he let her and Stiles into his office. "Thanks for coming down."

"Stiles told me you think the incubus killed again."

"Yeah, the landlord found him inside his apartment this morning."

"Him?" Brooklyn repeated with a frown. "No, that can't be the incubus. They don't kill men. There's never been an exception to that, ever."

Sheriff Stilinski reached for two files on his desk. "Sit," he instructed the two teenagers.

They obeyed, and he set the files down in front of them, one on the woman in the alley and the other on the man in the apartment. Brooklyn observed the pictures of the man's body, similar to the woman's in that there was no blood, no obvious wounds, but he was very obviously dead.

"We ran a tox screen on the woman like you suggested," the sheriff explained. "You were right, there was a drug in her system, but it seems to have been an inhalant rather than something she ingested. We can't fully identify it, but we think it most closely resembles a date rape drug."

He pulled the screening results from both folders and placed them side by side. "I asked them to do the same with our male victim when I saw him this morning."

"It's the same drug," Stiles realized, bending closer. "Look, he breathed it in, too."

"Impossible," Brooklyn whispered.

"Both of them were raped, as well," Sheriff Stilinski went on. "To me, it seems obvious the incubus killed the man, too."

"He couldn't have," Brooklyn argued fiercely. "Even if he wanted to. While I understand that men can rape and kill other men, incubi are actually incapable of it. They can only father children if it's done with a woman, and their only interest is to have children. An incubus has never killed a man, not ever. This can only mean one thing."

"What?"

She stood up. "You need to take me to where his body was found. Now."

The sheriff shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'd lose my job if anyone found out I was carting a bunch of teenagers around to crime scenes."

"Then I'll go myself. What's the address?"

He hesitated.

"Sheriff, this is important. Things could be more dangerous than any of us realized, and I need to be sure. Tell me."

With a resigned sigh, the older man grabbed a pen and scribbled the apartment address on a sticky note, handing it to his son. "Be careful, and stay safe, both of you. Understand?"

Stiles held the office door open for Brooklyn. "We'll be okay, Dad. I promise."

They hurried out of the police station and across the parking lot into Stiles' jeep. The days were slowly getting shorter, which meant the sun was already beginning to set as Stiles pulled out onto the road.

"It's a succubus, isn't it?" He asked the alpha werewolf.

She raised her eyebrows at him, impressed. "You did your research."

He shrugged. "It just makes sense. A succubus is the female counterpart to an incubus, and they kill men the same way an incubus kills women."

"I hope we're wrong about this," Brooklyn admitted. "I don't know that we can handle both of them."

Stiles pulled the car up to the apartment complex a few minutes later. The apartment they were looking for was one of only three on the ground floor, so they were able to find it quickly and sneak in a window on the backside. They landed in the kitchen, and Brooklyn smelled it immediately.

"They've both been here," she murmured. "Which means they're probably working together."

Stiles was suddenly wary. "I thought they masked their scent really well."

"They do."

"Then how are you so sure they've been here?"

"Either they want me to know they were here," she paused. "Or they haven't left."

"They're here _now?_" Stiles hissed.

Brooklyn stepped into the hallway, eyes shifting to red. Senses now heightened, she realized it had been a mistake to come here, let alone with a fragile human. She frantically pushed Stiles back over to the window they'd come through.

"Go, get out, now! They're here!"

It was too late. She saw Stiles' eyes widen and felt someone behind her, but couldn't shift and turn around in time. Everything went black.

* * *

**Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated, as always! **

**My school year starts on Wednesday, so unfortunately my updates are going to be less frequent. Sorry about that.**

**Someone asked in a review if Lydia is going to be part of this story. The situation, unfortunately, is the same as it is for Derek. I don't know yet. There are rumors flying that Holland Roden is leaving the show, so again, I have to wait and see. I just hope they don't kill Derek or anything. That would make this incredibly awkward!**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_They were telling the crowds to move back, move back. There was blood on her hands and she was shaking and they were trying to tell her she needed to let go now, let them take her body. _

_"Non," she gasped, surprised the words were able to leave her throat. "S'il __vous__ plait, __donnez__-moi __juste __une__ minute."_

_Please, just give me one minute._

_She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe._

* * *

She was in a car, slumped over against the window. They hadn't tied her, but there was no need. A gash on her cheek was bleeding steadily and she could feel an enormous amount of incubi (or maybe succubi?) poison trickling through her veins, rendering her almost inert. With a huge effort, she tilted her head up and to the left and saw Stiles.

He was bound, with... duct tape? She blinked, unable to see clearly. She didn't think they'd poisoned him; he'd probably be dead by now if they had. There was a bruise on his temple and he looked terrified, but otherwise okay for the moment. She tried to tell him it would be alright but her mouth didn't seem to be working either.

The car jolted roughly, and she smacked her head on something. The window? She couldn't tell. She was fading...

* * *

_She still had blood on her hands. She'd asked to wash them, but the French police wanted to question her first. They found someone to talk to her in English out of courtesy, but she couldn't care less. Everything was numb, except for her hands. Her hands were burning. _

_She couldn't remember what they asked her. She didn't remember answering. They let her go pretty quickly. _

_She sat in the shower in the apartment with her clothes on, trying to scrub her hands clean. There was no blood on them anymore; it had washed down the drain ten minutes ago, but she kept scrubbing. When she finally clambered out of the water, she only had enough energy to strip her wet clothes off. Leaving them to drip on the tile floor, she climbed into Cora's bed. The sheets felt odd on her bare body but she only pulled them closer. _

_They smelled like Cora._

* * *

She woke with a jolt this time, poison still heavy in her limbs but no longer enough to keep her unconscious. She was sore and stiff and tied to something cold. Stiles was facing her, awake and staring.

"I thought you were dead for a while," he whispered in relief.

She coughed up something liquid and dark and her vision swam. "Don't get your hopes up. I think I'm on my way there."

"They took our phones," he said. "Please don't die, okay?"

"It'll be fine, Stiles. It'll be okay." Her voice was very faint.

A door slammed behind Brooklyn, making her head throb.

"They're coming."

* * *

_The hospital called the next day, wanting to know about next of kin. They were confused when she told them yes, she has a brother, but no, there's no way to contact him. Cora had never even said his name aloud. _

_So they asked her what to do with the body. She almost told them she didn't care, but that was a lie. She cared too much._

_They burned Cora. Her ashes were sent to South America, to be scattered where she had spent most of her life. She paid a stranger to do it, and cried with regret for days afterward. And then she began the hunt for the killer, and didn't cry again._

* * *

The man that strode into Brooklyn's view was _extremely_ good-looking. She wasn't surprised; how else did he trick women into taking him home so easily? Aside from the drug he gave them. She supposed he could also be very charming when he wanted to. A little girl trailed behind him, an obvious product of the succubus and the dead man. Her gaze was cold.

"Hi," the man began in a crisp London accent. "Sorry about all this. I was really hoping you weren't going to cause me any more trouble once I gave you the slip in Paris. I thought I covered the trail quite well. Do tell how you managed to follow."

"Nematon," Brooklyn managed.

"Color me impressed," he said lightly. "I didn't really plan to come here, you know. Lara was supposed to meet me in Paris. And then you and your friend came. What was her name? Cora? Shame."

The incubus squatted in front of Brooklyn, a smug smile on his face. His words were making her angry, but the poison left her unable to move and unable to shift. She could only glare.

"She fought me very hard," he whispered. "Made it more fun."

Brooklyn turned her face away, feeling sick. He laughed and stood back up, pacing between the werewolf and the human.

"I couldn't do anything with you hard on my ass in Paris, so I told Lara we would meet where the nematon was. We could both feel it. Now here we are, and here you are again, and you've figured out I'm not alone. Clever."

"Not as stupid as we look," Stiles blurted. Brooklyn almost wanted to laugh. The incubus did.

"No, you aren't," he chuckled. "Lara wanted to kill all of you straight away, so we could rebuild our race in peace. It's my mistake for not listening to her. Now you're in the way, and I have to clean up the mess."

He turned and studied Brooklyn, eyes alight with a sick enjoyment. _He's loving this,_ she thought to herself.

"You're gonna kill us, aren't you?" Stiles didn't sound surprised.

The incubus gave him a swift kick in the stomach. He hunched over, coughing. "No, I'm going to let you go," he said mockingly. "Of course I'm going to kill you."

"Been here before," Stiles muttered.

"I'll let Lara have you," the demon hissed. "As for our werewolf friend... I wanted you to go down the same way Cora did. Unfortunately, it seems there's too much poison in your blood even for you to handle and you're already dying."

He bent in front of her again and stroked her cheek. She flinched away from him, disgusted. He dug his fingers into her neck, letting his claws slide out and pierce her skin, venom entering her already overloaded bloodstream.

Brooklyn immediately felt herself slipping away again, and this time she knew she probably wasn't going to wake up. There was a rushing sound in her ears that sounded like footsteps, and then a loud bang, and... fighting? She could no longer see and it was hard to breathe and then she knew she was dead because she could hear Isaac, and feel his arms around her.

"Hey," he murmured, lifting her up the same way he had a month before in the Paris hotel room. "Brooklyn, it's okay. I've got you now. I've got you."

And then she was gone.

* * *

_She woke up in a house, and couldn't remember getting there. She couldn't remember anything about the previous night. She felt fine, just disoriented. _

_"Hey," a voice said from the doorway. "You're up."_

_She squinted up at the girl. "What happened to me?"_

_"You're a new werewolf. Last night was a full moon," she took a few steps into the room. "Don't worry, no one was hurt."_

_"You're a werewolf, too?" _

_"Been one my whole life," the girl gave a wry smile. "I'd say you've only been one for a month or two. You shouldn't be out on your own."_

_Brooklyn sat up. "Is it just you here?"_

_"Nah, got two boys out in the kitchen. Come on, lets go say hi. You can stay, if you want. I hope you do; things can get a little too testosterone-heated around here sometimes."_

_Brooklyn smiled, feeling relaxed and comfortable around the girl. "What's your name?" She asked as they walked out into a narrow hallway. _

_"I'm Cora."_

* * *

Brooklyn woke with a gasp, lost in memories of Cora and not aware of her surroundings. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, her limbs ached and her eyelids were heavy, as though they weren't used to being open. Someone touched her shoulder and she tensed further.

"It's okay," a familiar voice soothed.

"Oh, God, I'm dead," she croaked, pinching her eyes closed again.

Isaac laughed. "No, you were _almost_ dead. You're in Derek's loft, with me, and Derek, and Dr. Deaton."

She opened her eyes and was able to focus this time, three faces around her bed coming into view. She struggled to pull herself into a sitting position and Isaac immediately helped her the rest of the way up.

"I feel like I've just been shot out of a cannon," she said, wincing. "And then crash-landed through some poor guy's roof."

"A temporary side effect of being so heavily poisoned," Dr. Deaton promised. "There's none left in your body, I took care of it, but you'll probably be weaker for a few more hours."

"Did you kill the incubus, at least?"

Isaac shook his head. "No, just the kid with him. He got away."

A sudden thought struck her. "Is Stiles okay?" She wondered, panicked.

"He's fine, he's fine," Derek replied. "Just bruised. He told us about the succubus, Lara, and gave a description of the incubus to his dad so they can put an APB out on him for kidnapping you both. He won't be able to kill anyone else very easily without being recognized."

"Good. This is good." Brooklyn was relieved; this was further than she'd ever gotten in Paris. It helped when the sheriff was in on everything that was happening.

"It looks like my work here is done," Dr. Deaton announced. "I'm sorry to have met you under these circumstances, Brooklyn."

"Thanks for not letting me die." She smiled at him as he walked himself out of the loft.

"Thanks for not dying," Isaac added after the vet had gone. Brooklyn heard the concern behind the joking manner and smiled reassuringly.

"Am I wearing your sweatshirt?" She looked down at her hands, encased in what could only be described as sweater paws.

"You were sick," he defended himself.

"Sounds like I've been out a while. What day is it?"

"You were poisoned on Friday night, and it's Sunday night now," Derek supplied. "No more deaths in that time."

"More good news."

"That's not all, either." He looked pleased. "When Isaac, Scott, Malia, and I came charging in the rescue you and Stiles, all of us got a nice whiff of incubus, which means it will be easier now to find him."

"Especially for you,"Brooklyn pointed out. "Mr. Super Werewolf over here."

"Black wolf," he corrected, smiling a tiny, smug smile.

"You can shift into an actual wolf," Isaac told him. "Honestly, who cares what you're called?"

Derek chuckled, then leaned up to press a kiss to Brooklyn's forehead before getting up. "Glad you're feeling better. Braeden's back in town, I'm going to meet her and see if she has anything that could help us."

The other two waved goodbye, and the loft fell silent as the door slid shut behind Derek.

"I'm almost glad I nearly died," Brooklyn admitted. "The incubus messed up, and we're closer than I've ever been before."

Isaac didn't really seem to hear her. "Did you know you talked a little while you were sick?"

"What does that mean?"

"You were talking in your sleep," he elaborated. "About Cora, or to her, I don't know. It was hard to tell. You had Derek pretty riled up for a while."

The alpha's face fell, and she studied Isaac for several long moments. "You knew her, too," she finally let out. "How do you feel?"

"I'm alright."

"Really?"

"Really really."

She snorted. "Is that a _Shrek_ reference? You're a terrible liar."

Isaac shook his head, moving to get up. Brooklyn snatched his arm, effectively stopping his movement. "No, don't. Please."

He hesitated, clearly debating whether obeying her request was a smart move after what had happened between them several nights ago. It probably wasn't, and the boy knew they needed to talk about it.

But not now. Now he would just do as she asked, unwise as it was, and he curled around her on her bed in a half-cuddle, half-protective cover. He would not watch her nearly die again.

They were both tense at first, unsure and self-conscious. Brooklyn wasn't entirely sure she was breathing right. In just a few minutes, however, they both relaxed, more comfortable and tired, from poison and stress and nerves and any combination thereof. Neither of them spoke a word, and they eventually fell asleep wrapped around each other, not moving an inch all night.

* * *

**1) How about that season 4 finale? WOW. 2) I feel so shitty that this took nearly two weeks to update. However, this chapter is the longest yet, and now I have the ability to use Derek's sweet-ass wolf power. And I can use Lydia and everyone else, since no one died. 3) There are things I don't like about this chapter, but I didn't spend as much time editing since I was taking forever. So, it's a little rough. 4) Thank you for reading! Thank you for leaving me constructive criticism! I will do my best to update as soon as I can. **


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Malachi?" Lara knelt by his bedside, reaching a tentative hand out and placing it on his arm gently. "Malachi, can you hear me?"

The incubus moved his head to the side, looking at his female counterpart through clouded eyes. He was barely alive, the flesh across his torso torn to pieces by Derek's claws and teeth, pure rage over his sister's death taken out on the demon. His breathing was harsh and ragged, lungs struggling to function the way lungs were supposed to.

Lara nearly teared up at the sight of him, dying slowly in front of her. She was doing all she could for him, but since they'd had to move after the fighting two nights before, she had to be more careful. The werewolves had their scents now, and she could not go around Beacon Hills freely anymore. Somewhere inside her, she knew she would not be able to keep Malachi alive, although she had tried her hardest.

She grabbed the pain pills she'd managed to swipe (barely) from a pharmacy and forced Malachi to swallow two. She couldn't help him recover, but she could try to make his death less painful in any way possible.

As Malachi fell into a fitful sleep once more, Lara knew she would not see him wake up again.

The succubus felt a sudden, uncontrollable rage fill her body, red spots flaming on the edges of her vision. Before she had known of Malachi's existence, she'd lived alone and poor with no hope of seeing her race survive. The knowledge that there was another like her had given her the possibility that maybe they would survive. It was Malachi that had convinced her that they could do it, they could rebuild their race. Malachi had helped her realize how much power she really had, and how to use it to create new life.

These werewolves were threatening her survival, growing more and more dangerous with every clash the two sides had. The dispute was now a war, and Lara vowed she would not rest until every last one of them had died just as painful a death as Malachi.

* * *

The week following Brooklyn and Stiles' kidnapping passed uneventfully, which made everyone wary. Malachi's scent was nowhere to be found, and Derek was hopeful that this meant he was dead, but he tried not to get ahead of himself. They had yet to spot Lara, either; she had successfully hidden herself for the time being.

The police department, too, saw no supernatural activity. There were no missing persons, no dead bodies, no demon children wreaking havoc. The sheriff, however, remained on edge, just like everyone else.

Brooklyn and Isaac fell into a pattern of regular high school students by day and scavenging Beacon Hills for any trace of incubus or succubus by night. Although unsuccessful so far, they kept at it, more determined than ever. Brooklyn was in high spirits as she recovered fully from being poisoned. The two were out on another nightly sweep when Isaac plucked up the courage to ask about the kiss.

"Alright," he announced as they strolled through a rural neighborhood. "I've tried to give you space, especially with everything going on recently, but now that things have calmed down, I think we need to talk about what happened before you and Stiles got taken."

Even though he didn't say it outright, Brooklyn knew immediately what Isaac was talking about. She didn't know what to say for a long minute, thinking carefully about the best way to approach the situation. It felt to her like an ultimatum, the defining moment of what their relationship to each other would be.

"Can I... can I clear something up first?" Brooklyn asked hesitantly.

"Sure," Isaac encouraged.

"I want to make sure," she paused, collecting herself, "that you weren't just kissing me to prove a point."

Isaac grinned. "Well, I was trying to prove my point, but no, that's not the only reason. Of course not."

Brooklyn nodded, satisfied with his answer. Now she knew where to go. "I owe you an explanation, then. For the way I reacted."

"That would be much appreciated." Isaac said playfully, although Brooklyn knew he was relieved that she was willing to talk about it.

"I'm not really sure how to start," she admitted. "You know that I'm not a touchy-feely kind of person."

"I was getting that, yes."

Brooklyn let out a huge breath, trying to shake out her nerves. "It's not that I don't like you, Isaac, that's not why I froze up. I do like you. Of course I like you."

After a long silence, Isaac murmured, "I like you, too."

This seemed to encourage Brooklyn, and she snuck a sideways glance at him, smiling. She looked forward again before continuing.

"You surprised me, and I didn't react fast enough, and I don't even really know what I was thinking. It's just my natural reaction to freeze up when someone shows affection unexpectedly, even if I am okay with it." She shrugged. "I didn't mean to. It just happened."

Isaac stayed quiet, trying to fully take in Brooklyn's words. Brooklyn waited nervously, unsure what he was thinking, heart in her throat. She hoped he would understand what she was trying to say. When he still said nothing, she spoke up again.

"If you were to do the same thing again, I wouldn't freeze up like that."

Brooklyn walked several paces before she realized Isaac was no longer next to her. She turned around to see him standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at her with a peculiar look on his face.

"You know," he breathed finally, "you can't say that and act like it's nothing, like I'm not going to kiss you again now."

Brooklyn glowed with an uncharacteristic surge of confidence. "I was counting on it."

Isaac swore colorfully and in two strides closed the gap between them. He kissed her hard, hands fumbling to pull her impossibly closer by her waist. This time she responded, warmth filling her whole body and butterflies whirling up a storm in her stomach.

And for one moment, everything seemed alright.

* * *

**It has been an entire month since I updated. I AM SO SORRY.**


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